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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27577889">bloom</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceryna/pseuds/Ceryna'>Ceryna</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Japanese Mythology &amp; Folklore, Mythology - Freeform, if u squint hard enough some ships may appear, very brief alcohol mention, yes this is a spring picnic fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:55:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27577889</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceryna/pseuds/Ceryna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the pulse of spring that follows them, over the clay-red of the first bridge to where the crowd thins, murmurs of conversations humming beneath the songs on shakuhachi. Clusters of spirits gather around the ponds. Some dance in the raining petals, some toast sake, clanking porcelain cups together to honor the changing seasons.</p><p>written for <a href="https://twitter.com/HighRiseZine">high rise: a shiratorizawa fashion zine</a></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>bloom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hello and welcome! i wrote this piece to appear in High Rise: A Shiratorizawa Fashion Zine! It was a digital-only project, and all proceeds were donated to the charity <i>Break the Silence Against Domestic Violence.</i></p><p>If you're hopping over from the zine twitter, thank you! happy to have you here! and if this story is new for you, welcome! i hope you enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as the humans celebrate the cherry blossom festival all over their world, so too does the celestial realm. Sakura Matsuri is one of the most-anticipated events of the year– ponds of starlight glisten across the wide, grassy field, and cherry trees line the pathways, blooming brilliantly throughout the valley. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spring is a short season, perhaps the most fleeting. Summer tends to both start early and stretch its sweltering heat on too long. Autumn can be short too, lasting just until the final, lingering leaves drift down to earth in reds and browns. Winter is quiet, crisp, with soft blankets of snow and blizzards of the sharpest chills. It, too, can overstay its welcome.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spring... Shirabu sighs. He leans against one of the cherry trees just outside the heavenly pavilion grounds, overlooking the stars beyond. His spring green haori jacket and forest emerald ceremonial hakama pants seem like they would be hot, but they’re comfortable, both a shield from the glimmer of sunlight overhead and a lure for the pleasant warmth of the season.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shirabu.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima greets him with a nod, and Tendou steps out with a grin from behind his back - not that the brilliant clay-red of his haori nor his flaming hair could truly be hidden by the lilac gradient of Ushijima’s haori. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good afternoon,” he greets, inclining his head in a slight bow. “Have you seen the others?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm!” Tendou swishes his fingers, inviting Shirabu to fall into step with them. “Well, we heard from them– they’re already inside, picking up snacks and celebrating.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They pass through the large wooden doors, under the bright orange Torii gate and into the celestial valley. Sounds of laughter and murmured conversations fade into whispers beneath aromatic cherry blossoms and the telltale sweetness of sakura mochi. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>True to their word, Kawanishi, Goshiki, and Semi crowd around one of the food stalls further along the main path. Shirabu spots Kawanishi first– his aquamarine haori and sandy hair visible through the sea of pink around them. Semi is next, dip-dyed hair contrasting with the cyan of his haori and his navy hakama. Goshiki’s burnt orange haori complements the rest of his ensemble– pale apricot and warm sienna garnish his hakama. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-got azuki and creme fillings?” Kawanishi is in the middle of asking as Shirabu, Tendou, and Ushijima arrive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Goshiki huffs, far too many dango skewers nestled between his fingers. The wooden sticks spear through pebble-shaped mochi, coffee-colored glaze glittering under the sun. “Yes!” he responds to the jibes before he turns to see the more senior spirits– and immediately brightens. “Tendou-san, Ushijima-san, Shirabu-san, hello!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, guys.” Semi greets them simply, informally, with an exaggerated wave of one hand. The other clutches what resembles a four-cup coffee carrier. Instead of paper cups, four thermal canisters of what can only be green tea rest inside. “Taichi, you’ve got the mochi?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kawanishi lifts his arm, producing a plate from the inside of his haori sleeve– Shirabu finds his mouth curling up into a smile. At least one of them remembered the benefits of spiritual storage. “We’ve scoped out a spot in the gardens,” he says, tucking the plate away and stealing one of the dango skewers from between Goshiki’s fingers. “Just beyond the second bridge.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shirabu sighs. He raises his left arm just slightly, using his right hand to rifle through his own spiritual storage– confirming the platters of fresh fruit he’d carved this morning are still there before straightening his shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lead the way,” Ushijima requests, striding ahead with Kawanishi to help clear a path through the crowd of spirits flocking to the festivities. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shirabu finds himself drifting to the rear of the group, plodding along the main path with Semi at his side. He’s observing to remember it all– the laughter and smiles on the wind, quiet mist of sakura petals and aromas of rice and sesame in the air, the lilting of shamisens and the distant thunder of Taiko drums, rumbling rhythms through the glen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s the pulse of spring that follows them, over the clay-red of the first bridge to where the crowd thins, murmurs of conversations humming beneath the songs on shakuhachi. Clusters of spirits gather around the ponds. Some dance in the raining petals, some toast sake, clanking porcelain cups together to honor the changing seasons.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time they reach the second bridge, they no longer have to walk behind each other. Instead, they have the freedom to usurp the entire pathway, walking side by side into sunlight, into spring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, they find themselves settling onto a blanket set out by one of the ponds of starlight. They leave their geta sandals at the edge, kneeling down on soft fabric as they crowd into a lopsided circle– one by one, snacks emerge from spiritual storage and tumble into the misshapen center. Plates of sakura mochi and still-steaming dango, canisters of green tea and matching ceramic mugs </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span> onto the fabric. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shirabu withdraws his platters of fresh fruit next– he sets a plate with sliced strawberries and peaches, and a bowl of loquats and lychee into the mix of snacks. Reaching for one of the mugs, he cups it in his hands and extends it towards Kawanishi who pours in the matcha.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Goshiki is quick to follow– by the looks of it, dango glaze glints on his free hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Shirabu might have munched on some of the strawberries while he waited, he says nothing. He waits, ceramic warming in his hands until Kawanishi pours the last of the matcha into his mug. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ushijima raises his mug in a wordless toast. Tendou knocks his mug against Ushijima’s, inciting a chorus of ceramic clinks as the rest of them follow suit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shirabu is the final </span>
  <em>
    <span>clink, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and then he’s free to taste the matcha. It’s hot and fragrant, bitterness lingering on his tongue as he swallows it down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A flick of his wrist stirs a gentle breeze beneath the plate with sakura mochi, raising it from where it rests on Tendou’s knee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could ask, you know.” Semi grins, stealing a mochi as the plate passes by him and floats into Shirabu’s waiting hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shirabu plucks a pink mochi from the plate and holds it, the pounded rice sticking to his fingers. He raises an eyebrow. “Did I ask you?” he shoots back, but humor curls his lips up into a smile– though the hint of bared teeth just might make it a smirk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And when a breeze wafts past, carrying sunshine and sakura petals, Shirabu watches pink and gold rain pass by.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He bites into his mochi. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It tastes like spring.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story (^^)</p><p>comments help fuel my writing! i'd love to know your favorite line, what you liked about the story, or if you'd like to see more fic like this from me! ^^ </p><p>I'm on Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/Ceryna_writes">here</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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